Empathy
by Sweet Christabel
Summary: Seeking a moment of solitude while running from Wheatley, Chell overhears something she wasn't expecting: something that gives her greater understanding of her potato companion, something that draws her constant shadow out of the darkness.


**Disclaimer:** Portal and its characters belong to Valve.

**Author's Note: **This little piece of waffle came about while I was listening to Potatos Lament on the Portal soundtrack. If you haven't heard it, I recommend that you have a listen. (It's most likely on You Tube.) This story will make more sense! Anyway, I was listening to it, thinking about who might overhear it and how they would react, because it's a surprisingly emotional sound coming from a supposedly-unemotional A.I. (I say supposedly, because who knows what's really going on in GLaDOS's head?)

* * *

**Empathy. **

Chell knew that they were in serious trouble, most likely scheduled to die in the next few hours. The state of the neglected reactor core was never far from her thoughts. But she was so tired, she'd been running for so long, past the point a normal person would have declared exhaustion. All she wanted was a few moments to herself, to gather her strength, away from chattering voices. And that meant she'd need to leave the potato behind.

They were making their way through the maintenance area behind Wheatley's poor excuse for a testing track. They were out of sight, which made her feel slightly better, but she knew he was searching for them. Some ally he'd turned out to be. She felt stupid for following him so blindly. But she'd been desperate, and he had seemed to know his way around the place.

She stopped walking, the echoing tapping of her boots fading into the crowding silence. The darkness curled around her like smoke, somehow emphasised by the sudden lack of noise.

"Why have you stopped?" GLaDOS demanded, her usual authoritative tone getting lost in the tinny quality of her voice.

Chell didn't answer. It was normal behaviour for her. She looked upwards, scanning the walkways above the one she was traversing. The way appeared to be climbable, the wall beside them covered with pipes and valves that would make it relatively easy. She hesitated, studying it. She wanted...no, _needed _a break, but she was aware that time was running out. What would be more dangerous? Eating into that time? Or carrying on and risk fatigue causing her to make a vital error? She didn't know.

In the darkness, there was a soft, shuffling sound that made her narrow her eyes thoughtfully. Suddenly she found her decision was made. She slipped the portal gun off her arm and lowered it to the metal mesh of the catwalk.

"What are you doing?" GLaDOS snapped, an unfamiliar strand of panic leeching into her words. She knew she was vulnerable now. The soft, slowly rotting potato she was housed in was her only line of defence against the world.

Chell walked a few steps away, examining the wall. It would be easier to climb it without her long fall boots, but she didn't want to risk it. Just in case she slipped.

GLaDOS piped up again. "You won't get far without me, you know that, right? What are you thinking?"

Struck by the obvious anxiety in her voice, Chell turned and gave a tiny smile that she hoped was reassuring. She held up a hand, indicating five minutes.

"Oh...Right. Well, okay. Just...make sure you come back. And don't leave me near the edge."

Chell nodded. She began to climb, and soon the shadows swallowed the device and the potato. She had used to climb as a hobby, before her job had gotten busy. Doing it again, relearning forgotten skills, felt like visiting an old friend. She reached a wide walkway, with several closed doors lining the wall. The few that were open led to offices. Nothing she hadn't seen before. There was never anything useful in them.

Out of breath, she stopped, leaning back against the wall, letting its coolness chill her warm skin. She was hidden here. The darkness and the quiet cloaked her. There was nothing but the low, pervasive hum of the facility. No cumbersome device to give away her position with its pretentious coloured lights, no cold, yellow optic staring at her from the potato. She hadn't realised how much she hated not blending in. Now, free of the burden, she felt safe. She felt like she could breathe.

She closed her eyes, blocking out what little she could see. There it was again: that quiet shuffle, so quiet that she would have thought she'd imagined it if she didn't know better. He was up here with her.

He'd been following her for days, always keeping out of sight. He was merely a shadow, haunting her steps like a lonely spirit. At first she'd been alarmed, feeling threatened. But he never approached her. She'd become aware of him by accident, catching a very brief glimpse of his crouched figure as she'd leapt through a portal. She'd gotten better at figuring out where he was the further she went through the test chambers. He'd taken a back route through, often disappearing for chambers at a time. Then she'd realised that he'd been ahead of her, leaving his mark, painting murals on the walls. She'd recognised them at once, the scrawlings of the person who'd helped her on her first journey through. As she'd drawn closer, she'd seen that the paint was still wet, and the pieces clicked into place. After that, she'd no longer been afraid.

She'd lost him when she'd fallen miles and miles into the depths of the old facility. She didn't know if he'd realised what had happened. But he'd been waiting for her to climb out, crouching behind a pillar. She'd seen him in the distance, and she'd been glad. He was a survivor like her, just looking for a way out. She wanted to let him know it was okay, that he had nothing to fear from her. But he hadn't given her the opportunity, maintaining his distance like a frightened animal.

Chell sighed softly, rubbing her tired, gritty eyes. She needed food and rest, and plenty of it. But first she had to take care of Wheatley. It was partially her fault he'd been able to do all of this. She supposed she should think about heading back down, but she wasn't ready to leave her quiet refuge. Common sense told her she never would be, and she just had to get on with it, but prompting herself to actually move was difficult. The solitude was as good as rest.

Just as she was giving herself an internal motivational speech, there came a sound, echoing up to her like a whisper on a breeze. It was faint singing, a mournful outpouring of sorrow and melancholy. To her utter shock, she recognised the voice. She moved away from the wall, heading to the railing she'd clambered over to get there. She leaned her arms on it, ignoring the chill, gazing down into the darkness. Of course, she couldn't see anything. The portal gun was too far below, and the only light she had up on the walkway was the amber-tinted screensaver on the widescreen monitors in the offices.

She held her breath, listening to the song. It was desolate, portraying only grief and none of the anger she would have expected. She hadn't known that her potato companion was capable of so much raw emotion. It demonstrated more humanity than even the remnants of Caroline had shown. The enrichment centre was GLaDOS's pride and joy, her refuge, her fortress. Her home. And it had been ripped away from her. She'd suffered the indignity of being transferred into a vegetable, a fate that she most likely considered to be worse than death. Inside the facility, she had total control, her mainframe in tune with almost every part of Aperture Science. Now she was nothing, outputting a laughably small amount of power that Chell thought was more of an insult than if she'd just been shut down. She didn't know if GLaDOS shared her point of view, of course. But after their time together, she had a basic understanding of the way the A.I. thought.

The doleful notes of the song spoke of her losses. She felt them deeply, mourned them, even. Like Chell had mourned her own. Her vision blurred and she blinked, taken aback by the tears. She was crying for her fallen enemy. She'd never imagined that anything would have possessed her to do such a thing. She felt a flare of anger at herself, but it was pointless. She could no more control it than she could control the weather.

Suddenly she realised she was not alone. He'd come out of hiding, drawn out by the song. She could see him out of the corner of her eye, gripping the railing with a tentative hand. He was carrying a companion cube on his back, held there by a makeshift sling. She wondered if he'd somehow saved it from incineration. She forced herself not to move. She didn't want to startle him.

"What _is_ that?" he asked, his voice low.

She glanced at him stealthily. His eyes were wide with astonishment, peering down into the dark.

"It's her," she said softly, knowing he'd understand. Her voice was raspy with disuse.

She felt a jolt of panicked confusion, unsure why she'd spoken to him. She hadn't spoken a word since she'd been there.

He turned his head towards her, and she dared to meet his gaze. She couldn't see him well in the poor light, but she could make out his wild hair and beard, and the glint of reflection in his eyes. He was thin, his face gaunt. A scientist, as she'd already guessed based on the lab coat he was wearing. She could just see the I.D. badge on the pocket: a neater, clean-shaven him, and the name Douglas Rattmann.

They studied each other in silence, the first human either of them had seen in far too long. Slowly, in a way that made her think it was almost against his will, he raised a hand to her cheek, brushing away a tear with a feather-light touch. She forced herself not to flinch. The gesture was so alien to her. She hadn't seen kindness or compassion for a long time.

"You think she doesn't deserve your tears," he said thoughtfully. "She does. It's...not all her fault."

She wanted to ask him to elaborate, but the words stuck in her throat. The last notes of the song died away, and the stillness closed in around them once more. Startled, he backed away, moving faster than she would have expected.

"I'm sorry!" he whispered.

Chell darted after him, grabbing a handful of his coat. He stopped with a jerk, letting out a small whimper in surprise.

"Wait!" she said, clearing her throat.

"Please," he muttered. "I'm not safe out here. I shouldn't be here."

"I just...I'll let you go, I promise. I have to get back anyway, I've...got a problem to fix. I just...wanted to say thank you."

She let go of his coat, but he didn't move, studying her face with a look of genuine confusion.

"For what?"

"For helping me."

He smiled in acknowledgement, but the air of bewilderment didn't leave him. She couldn't help but ask why.

He hesitated before answering, sending frequent, seemingly significant looks over his shoulder at the cube.

"There's too much," he said at length. "And not enough time."

Chell nodded, aware that he was right. He was the only one that could give her any answers, and she didn't know if she'd ever see him again.

"If I make it out of here-" she began.

He cut her off. "You _will _make it out of here."

"I'll wait for you," she told him, her tone inviting no argument.

He struggled with a response. Clearly, he wanted to tell her not to. Finally, he sighed. "Likewise."

She smiled and offered him her hand. He stared at it for a few suspicious seconds before shaking it, his grip surprisingly strong for his frail appearance.

"You should go," he said, and she nodded in agreement. "You...can't trust her. You can't trust anybody. But...it's not...she wasn't always this way."

"I know. Thank you."

He nodded and turned away, already melting back into the shadows.

"Mr. Rattmann?"

He looked back, one eyebrow raised in question. "Doug," he corrected.

"Doug. I...I trust you."

He let out a sigh, a hint of sadness hidden within it. "You shouldn't."

"But I will."

He met her gaze once more, his face unreadable. Then he turned and vanished into the darkness. Chell sighed too, collecting her thoughts. Then she made her way back down to the walkway below, where GLaDOS was waiting.

"That was not five minutes," she complained, sounding strangely perturbed. "I would have expected the moron to have trouble with basic counting, not you."

Chell picked up the portal gun, fitting it snugly onto her arm. The optic in the potato stared at her. It was impossible to know what was going through the A.I.'s processors. The dying notes of the song still echoing in her ears, she glanced at her enemy-turned-ally, unsure how to react. She wanted to acknowledge GLaDOS's suffering, but she didn't trust her enough to break her self-imposed silence.

"How far did you go anyway?"

Chell shrugged, feeling slightly guilty, as if she'd been caught eavesdropping on a private phone call.

"Oh," said GLaDOS meaningfully, apparently reading her expression with concerning accuracy.

There was no getting away from the fact that her song had been heard. Chell didn't even try to avoid it. Instead, she nodded gently.

"Were you alone up there?"

She considered. She didn't want to involve Doug, but she didn't think that lying to GLaDOS would do much for their flimsy partnership. Unable to help it, she shot a quick glance upward. The darkness gave nothing away.

"The rat, then?"

Chell frowned slightly. Then it dawned: Rattmann. She nodded again. She didn't know what direction the conversation would have taken, but she could tell GLaDOS didn't like the thought of being overheard. Perhaps she was wary of being vulnerable. Very deliberately, Chell looked directly into the optic and gave a sincere, sympathetic smile.

Whether the message reached her, Chell would never know. GLaDOS didn't say another word on the subject. But at the end of all things, her greatest enemy let her go, treated her with something that was almost kindness. Perhaps it was down to Caroline. Perhaps it was Wheatley's forcing them to go on a team-building tour of old Aperture.

Or perhaps it was simply empathy, as if GLaDOS had somehow heard the conversation that took place on the walkway above her. It wasn't out of the question, there were probably cameras and microphones everywhere. As it turned out, Chell spent only a mere two minutes soaking up the sun in the wheat field when the door she'd stumbled through opened again, spitting out a scorched, soot-blackened companion cube. It was hers, the one she'd incinerated. She barely had time to blink before the door opened a final time, depositing a bemused Doug Rattmann at her feet. And she understood. Kindness for kindness. Empathy.

* * *

**A/N: **I know that Potatos Lament kind of has lyrics, and that there are various interpretations of them. But if Chell was simply overhearing the song, she wouldn't pick up on that at all, which is why I chose to ignore it. Besides which, I think they're in Latin, and I doubt Chell speaks it!

Just offering up another theory as to some of the reasons behind GLaDOS's decision to let Chell go. The popular one is, of course, that Caroline was Chell's mother, (a theory that I personally don't buy), but as with everything, (the fate of Doug included), it's all up for speculation until Valve say something definite. And I hope that they never will, because theorising about these characters is fun! I just wish that people were a bit less enthusiastic about their personal theories, and a bit more open minded about others. It's all up for debate, people! Live and let live :)


End file.
